Bloody Mess
by jibber59
Summary: Memories can be more dangerous than injuries, and Ezra may be learning that the hard way. (Rating due to language and non-graphic description of childhood trauma.) Thanks to Kelly Bolster Leach for providing the idea and asking for a story to go with it!


_In response to a suggestion from Kelly Bolster Leach on Facebook. Hope she (and the rest of you) like my interpretation._

"Good Lord Pard. You look rode hard and put away wet." Vin was taken aback by the soggy and tattered appearance of the normally dapper gambler. The others at the table in the saloon looked up at the comment.

"Whooee! I don't think I've ever seen you look quite so –" Buck was at a loss for the right word.

"Wrung out?" JD offered simultaneous to Josiah's "Messy?".

"Common." Nathan offered, knowing full well it would get a rise from the image-conscious member of the team. He was more than surprised to get little more than a nod of agreement.

"Unkempt, dishevelled, even scruffy would be appropriate. I am most decidedly not at my finest gentlemen. If my services are not required, I would greatly appreciate the opportunity to endeavor to correct the situation." He glanced at Chris as he spoke, but made a concerted effort to avoid eye contact.

"Nothing unusual going on, but I think you might want to let us know what happened Ezra." Chris's tone had none of the humour the others had voiced. It wasn't just Ezra's appearance that had him concerned. The man tended to be considerably more defensive than he was presenting today, and any change in that behaviour could be a sign of trouble.

"I assure you Mr. Larrabee, there is no reason for apprehension or suspicions. This," he waved his hand to indicate his appearance, "was the result of a compilation of incredible, unforeseeable happenstance."

"Huh?" JD questioned.

"Extreme bad luck." Ezra simplified.

"Still like to hear about it." Chris was unconvinced.

"Fine, I shall entertain you with the tale of my misfortune."

"You know that ain't what he was get at Ezra." Buck challenged.

"Yes, I do. My apologies Mr. Larrabee. Gentlemen. I can only offer my state of disarray as explanation for my unpleasant manner."

"Ez, what happened?" Vin cut to the chase.

"As I indicated, unfortunate happenstance. I was momentarily distracted from the path we were travelling by what I erroneously determined to be activity on the horizon to the west. At that instant, Chaucer was startled by the appearance of a serpent. It lunged, striking neither of us," he added in anticipation of the inevitable demand, "but causing my normally taciturn steed to bolt without warning. I tumbled free, after a fashion, and what you see is the result."

"Geez Ezra, you could've been hurt bad." JD voiced the obvious, but the concern in his voice still managed to touch Ezra

Nathan eyed Ezra with new intensity. "Could have been, or were? You were favouring your right leg when you came in. Thought maybe you were just a bit stiff, but I'm betting now it was more serious than that."

"I would gladly take that bet Mr. Jackson. Yes, my leg is causing some discomfort, but hardly serious. The same may be said for the other contusions and abrasions. Nothing that cannot be cured by a hot bath, soothing Brandy, and a good sleep in the comfort of my featherbed. So, if you gentlemen will excuse me."

"Bruises and scrapes? You didn't just fall, did you Ezra?" Josiah could tell from the caution of Ezra's words, not to mention the condition of his clothing, that there was more to the story. "How far were you dragged, son?"

Nathan and Vin both leapt to their feet. "You were dragged? Sit down you damn fool. You could be hurt worse than you think." Nathan took a step closer, mirrored perfectly by Ezra's retreat.

"I repeat Mr. Jackson. I am not seriously injured. I am perfectly capable of assessing my own health."

"Like you were the first time I tried to help you? Wouldn't even admit that you had a dislocated shoulder till I popped it back."

"I do not question your skills Sir, just my need for them. Again, if you will all excuse me?" He turned and all but ran from the room, limping more evident because of his haste.

"Dammit Chris, I should be checking him over."

"Well, he doesn't want you to, and you can't lock him up and tie him down."

"No matter how tempting that idea might be," Vin added with some anger.

"Never seen anyone so stubborn about admitting he's hurt." Josiah observed.

"Really? Have you met the other gentlemen at this table?" Nathan countered. "If you all aren't bleeding half to death I practically have to hog-tie you to get you into the clinic."

"Besides," Buck added, "Ezra will put up a right fuss when he gets hurt most of the time."

"No," Nathan corrected, "not really. Sure, something minor he'll play up. Especially if it means he gets to sleep in. But anything that requires real doctoring, he fights tooth and nail. If he ain't shot or unconscious, I can't get near him. You all are stubborn, but he's just played mule headed."

"You can't be thinking it's personal Nathan. I'm pretty sure Ezra's come to his senses on all that." JD advised.

"No, I get that feeling too. Besides, he made as much effort to avoid the doc in Eagle's Nest when we had troubles there."

"Y'all are making something out of nothing. It's just Ezra being Ezra."

"Maybe, Buck," Chris spoke softly. "But keep a close eye on him Nathan."

7-7-7-7-7-7-7

Ezra lowered himself slowly into the steaming tub. The heat radiated through him, reaching every ache and strain. He looked at the pile of sodden and tattered clothing on the floor, realizing most was unsalvageable. The coat might be able to be cleaned and repaired to the state it could at least be worn on those occasions when wear and tear was inevitable. The pants were less likely to recover as the leg that had been caught up in the stirrup was shredded. Likewise, the shirt would have to be disposed of, but for reasons he would prefer his teammates never discovered. That much blood would not come out. The combination of slate rock and Chaucer's hooves had cut him open in several spots, including a deep gash to his left arm and along the ribs. Many of the injuries had started bleeding again as Ezra peeled off his shirt. He looked down again at the seeping wounds and felt his stomach clench at the site. He fought the nausea, determined to not allow the fear to overtake him again. He'd seen worse. He'd been hurt worse. But as he looked down at the long open gash along his arm he could feel the flood of memories beginning to batter him. Images danced before his eyes as familiar sensations returned.

"No!" He shouted out loudly, eyes snapping open to remind him he was safely ensconced in the comfort of his own room. He sighed with relief over both that realization, and the fact that he had elected to splurge on having the tub and warm water brought to his room rather than having to go to the public bath, where he would most certainly would have been heard.

The thought no sooner entered his head than he heard a firm tap at the door.

"Ez? Pard? You okay in there?"

Damn! "Assuredly, Mr. Tanner. I merely dropped my snifter of brandy and reacted accordingly. My apologies for the disturbance."

"Did it break? Don't cut yourself up anymore." Ezra could see the doorknob turn.

"Please Mr. Tanner. There is no need for you to intrude on my privacy. Nothing was shattered. I was merely lamenting the squandering of such a fine liquor."

The door remained closed. "Okay then. You get some rest. I can take care of your patrol in the morning if you aren't up to the ride. You need me to see after Chaucer?"

"His needs have been met for the night, but I thank you for the offer." Ezra sat quietly as he listened to Vin walk away from the door.

He leaned back into the tub, which suddenly felt cold and unwelcoming. The water was tinted pink and Ezra scrambled quickly to get away. He knew he would have to dispose of the water himself. The others would be suspicious of his actions, but he'd come up with an explanation. Better yet, he'd put on his hurt and offended façade and hope they simply let the matter drop. Either way, it was better than having them find out about the blood.

Shivering, not only because of the dampness, Ezra wrapped himself in towels. Without bothering to exert the energy needed to change into his night clothes, he fell into the bed, pulling every bit of covering he had over him.

"Everything okay?" Chris looked up to see a distracted looking Vin Tanner coming down from Ezra's room. "Vin, is he okay?"

"Not sure. He sounded okay, maybe a little stressed."

"Well if I thought you were going to bust in on me having a bath I might be stressed to." JD teased

"He sounded kinda tense."

"He say what he shouted about?" Josiah asked, starting to feel a bit tense himself.

"Said he dropped his brandy, spilled it all."

"Yeah," Buck nodded. "That'd piss him off."

"Buck, when was the last time you saw Ezra drop a drink, less he'd had about 9 or 10 before it?" Vin asked.

"Come to think of it, never. You think he's hurt worse than he's saying?"

"Don't really know."

"Look," Chris settled the discussion, "we let him sleep tonight. If he still seems off in the morning, we'll hold him down if we need to so that Nathan can check him. Now, don't some of you have places to be?"

JD gulped down what was left of his beer before scurrying off to the jail. Buck was a bit more leisurely finishing his own brew, but soon headed out for patrol as well, with Nathan close behind. Josiah stood more slowly, looking at the two men left seated. "You fellas going to stick close by?"

Chris nodded as Vin replied "Of course." Josiah smiled slightly, then headed out, planning to return soon.

7-7-7-7-7-7-7

Ezra cautiously shrugged himself into his red coat, saying a silent thanks to the fates that had him wearing something different the day before. He turned to the mirror, hoping the image he saw would look a good deal better than he felt.

His colour was a bit off. Nathan, and probably Vin and Chris as well, would notice he was pale. He planned on chalking it up to a bad sleep due to assorted minor aches and pains. His arm still bled slightly, although it seemed to be much less that it had it first. He'd elected not to change the bandage again, unwilling to look again at the injury. The ability to take a deep breath with only minor discomfort assured him his ribs were at worst cracked. No need for Nathan to examine things further.

And, in the event he was unable to completely disguise his state, he could put on a show of reluctantly conceding his ankle was slightly tender, and was therefore the cause of his discomfort. It might even be sufficient to keep him off patrol for a day or two, which at this moment seemed like the best idea he'd had in weeks.

He heard the footsteps before the knock, and put his poker face on.

"Ezra, you awake?" He pulled the door open, enjoying for a moment the clear surprise on Chris's face.

"Awake, alert, and prepared for the day Mr. Larrabee." He stepped out, pulling the door quickly behind him. He disposed of the tub water during the night when it would not be noticed, but there were still some signs of his injuries in the room. They would not be missed by the keen eye of their leader.

"You feeling okay?"

"Of course Mr. Larrabee. A little the worse for wear naturally, but overall just fine."

"Then how come you're up and dressed? And not complaining?"

Perhaps he had overplayed his hand. "Very well. I will admit to not having benefited from the best of sleep, and was hoping movement would help erase a few of the aches. I would, however, prefer Mr. Jackson remain oblivious to my situation, as he no doubt would have salves and ointments that, while moderately effective, would have me smelling like Chaucer's stall, or Mr. Wilmington after a long ride."

Chris grinned slightly. "I can see where you'd want to avoid that. Can't guarantee Nathan won't notice though. Expect he'll be watching you pretty close."

"Yes, I am quite certain of that as well."

"And he's sure to see that limp."

Ezra hadn't needed to exaggerate the pain in his leg nearly as much as he'd anticipated.

"Yes, I'd surmised that as well. I will concede my leg is causing a small degree of discomfort."

"Can you ride?"

"Of course."

"No," Nathan spoke from the bottom of the stairs. "He can't. The way you're favouring that ankle, getting on and off Chaucer's going to be difficult. Controlling a horse, even your horse, is not a good idea."

"Really Mr. Jackson. I believe I am the best judge of that."

"Nathan says no, then you don't ride. Vin already said he could take your turn this morning, and we'll work out the rest. How long do you figure Nathan?"

"Couple of days at least. Really need to look at it be certain." Both men looked at Ezra who took a tentative step away.

"Perhaps a compromise gentleman? If it is still causing discomfort tomorrow morning, I will accede to Mr. Jackson's request."

Chris looked to Nathan, who gave a rather reluctant nod of agreement before speaking. "You gotta promise me if it gets worse before that you'll say something."

"I promise to notify you immediately if there is a significant change to my leg." Ezra was fairly certain he could be sure that his leg was not going to be an issue, so had no problem offering the assurance. Nathan looked at him with a degree of suspicion, but after a glare from Chris, let the matter drop.

"Okay. Best to get off that leg and plan to take it easy for the day. I'd put you over on jailhouse duty, but as we have no guests, looks like you've got the day off."

"I deeply appreciate that Mr. Larrabee. If the circumstances change, you should be able to find me at my usual table. Most likely playing solitaire for the day, but even that serves to focus the mind and keep the fingers nimble."

"Good to see you getting exercise."

Ezra merely grinned at the reply as he settled himself into his chair, fighting to hide the degree of discomfort he was already coping with. He started to reach for his cards with his left arm and quickly switched as he felt the pull on the wound. The last thing he needed was for it to start really bleeding again. He shuddered lightly at the thought, then looked up in alarm, sighing with relief to himself when he realized he hadn't been noticed.

The morning passed slowly. He was interrupted several times by assorted team members just 'dropping by'. He was certain they had been sent by Chris and Nathan to keep tabs on him, and did his best to distract them from the task. JD and Buck had been simple to divert. All one had to do to refocus Buck's attention was to ask him about his latest conquest or point out an attractive lady. JD was equally distractible with card flourishes or inquiries about the latest 'penny dreadful' he was reading. Of course, any of these diversions required listening to their stories, which was the only downside to the exercise.

He was lucky they weren't really too concerned about him. Had they known the full details of his fall, they would not have been so easily dissuaded from their agenda.

The thought led Ezra to think back on the accident. Not quite as simple as he had described. True, he'd been distracted by what he thought was trouble ahead, but as he turned his head to look, he'd pulled on the reins, leading Chaucer directly into the path of a rattler. His reaction had been nothing less than one would have expected as he reared back and charged off. As Ezra was only loosely holding the reins in one hand is fall was the logical outcome. Sadly, he hadn't had the good fortune of a clean tumble, as his left leg snared in the stirrup. It took just a few seconds to twist free, but by that time the damage had been done. Surprisingly, the leg was not the worst injury. His jacket had been draped over his shoulders in deference to the warmer than expected whether. As a result, it had been battered by the hooves, but not destroyed. The same could not be said of his shirt. The sharp rocks had all but shredded the sleeves, and left long cuts along his chest as well. It had been some time since Ezra had shrieked in such a manner. There was no controlling the reflex. As he finally rolled to a stop, he lay gasping to catch his breath. Chaucer had slowed almost immediately on feeling the absence of the weight he'd been pulling, and Ezra was fairly certain from the beast's posture that there was a degree of remorse being felt.

"Not your fault old friend. Merely one of those luckless moments."

Ezra had slowly pushed himself to his feet, biting back the desire to react further. It would serve no purpose to deplete his energy.

He'd looked at his wounds and, on seeing the long sliced on his left arm felt a wave of nausea passed through him. He fought against it, but quickly surrendered, relieving himself of his lunch, breakfast, and what felt like every meal he'd ever eaten. He closed his eyes, pushing away the images flooding his memory. The cutting, the bleeding he'd seen all those years ago. The terror that still went with it.

He fell back, lying as still as he could while trying to regain his focus. A gentle nudging from Chaucer brought him back with relief.

Ezra forced himself to deal with his situation. He knew continuing the patrol was out of the question. He was almost done at this point anyway, and could only hope the uncovered territory was quiet. He reached into the saddlebag and pulled out the spare shirt he kept there. Cautiously pulling at the remnants of what he had been wearing, easily tore it into strips he could use for bandages. Focusing on the task instead of the injuries, he wrapped what he could and covered it all in the layers of the clean shirt and his jacket. With any luck, it would keep the curious eyes of his colleagues at bay.

Ezra was brought back to the present by Vin's mid-afternoon arrival at the saloon. He breathed a quiet sigh of relief, knowing he never would have forgiven himself of any misfortune had befallen the sharpshooter while covering his patrol.

"How are you feeling Pard?" Vin spun the chair around and straddled it, nodding his request to the bartender for a long-anticipated beer.

"Other than being dreadfully fatigued by making repeated replies to that question, I'm feeling as well as might be expected."

"You been sitting here all day?"

"For the most part. This dilemma being Mr. Larabee was unable to find labours that would adhere to my current restrictions. And Mr. Jackson has threatened to tie me to the seat if I wander off."

"Shouldn't you be getting some rest?"

"I fear any effort to depart would result in Mr. Jackson restricting to me quarters. And, if I were to retire before my nightly games of chance, it would certainly send all of you into an even deeper state of concern over my well being. I shall spend the evening in my usual manner, then get the rest I may need."

Vin shrugged. "Guess you know best how you feel. Me? I'm gonna get some grub and stretch out for a bit."

"I am truly sorry if the additional duty has proved to be fatiguing to you?" Ezra was sincere in his contrition.

"Nah, I'm fine. Don't worry about me, just take care of yourself." He stood from his spot and headed off to his wagon to follow through on his plan. Ezra let out a small sigh, relieved to have been able to send another watcher on his way. He was tired, more so than he expected to be, and keeping up the façade was proving to be far more of a challenge than he'd expected. A few more hours, and he'd be able to drag himself off to the comfort and privacy of his room.

7-7-7-7-7-7-7

"So, if you don't intend on playing cards tonight, what the hell are you sitting here for?"

Ezra didn't recognize the voice challenging him, and didn't really have the energy or desire to raise his head or his voice to reply. He ached everywhere, and the room seemed unnaturally warm to him.

"I do not believe I am required to provide you with an explanation regarding how I elect to spend my time on any given evening, sir." The words sounded slightly slurred, even to his ears. With any luck, the man would assume him drunk and move on to a more promising target. His luck was not running tonight.

"Heard about you gambler. Thinkin' you're something special. Puttin' on that you're the best around."

"I am not putting on anything. And my record speaks for itself."

"So, deal me in. I'm gonna teach you a lesson."

"I have no intention on dealing you into anything. I am not playing poker with you or anyone else this evening."

"Chicken?"

"Man said he wasn't interested. You having trouble understanding that?" Ezra could not remember a time he had been happier to hear Buck's voice.

Ezra's would-be competitor turned to face Buck. "Looking for a game. He's the man I came to play. Ain't my fault he's been drinking."

"You should be glad he has. The only chance you might have of walking away with any of your money. But not tonight. Move it along."

"Don't really think you can make me do that."

"Oh, I'm pretty sure I can. But just in case I don't, they will."

The man turned to see a wall of humanity behind him, made up of Vin, Chris, and Josiah. JD stood at the saloon door, smiling and holding it open for his departure. With barely a glance back at Ezra, a hasty departure was made.

"I do thank you for your timely intervention, Mr. Wilmington." Once again, Ezra could hear his voice slurring.

"Not a problem Ez. Can't say I recall seeing you turned down many games recently."

Ezra made a concerted effort to sound as casual as possible. "Simply not in the mood for the interaction."

"You sure that's all?" Vin moved in closer. "You're looking a mite flushed."

Ezra found he wasn't entirely certain who had spoken. The voice did sound familiar. "Optical illusion of the lighting."

"Don't think so. Shit Ezra, you're sweating something fierce." Chris had moved in from the side, catching Ezra unaware. He jumped at the closeness, tipping his chair back as he scrambled away.

"Easy Ezra."

"No! Stay away!"

"Ezra, relax. We're not gonna hurt you."

"Think that's the problem Chris. Look at the way he's holding his arm. He was hurt more than he let on. Something's wrong, real wrong."

"Why doesn't that surprise me. Ezra, let me look at your arm."

Ezra pulled back again with more speed than any of them would have expected. Vin lunged to block his escape, and both men fell to the floor. Ezra shrieked as his arm hit the chair.

"Damn Ez. I'm sorry. You gotta calm down."

The gambler continued to try to scramble free. As he looked up they could see the fear and confusion on his face. He was again trying to stand when Josiah intervened. "Easy son, just stop. I got you son."

Ezra froze in place. "Father?" His voice was weak and trembling. "Father?"

Josiah went blank, not sure how to answer. Chris caught his eye and nodded fiercely. "Yes Ezra," Josiah spoke quietly. "Yes son."

"No – it can't be. You're – I thought…" He faded off.

"You thought what son?" Josiah moved closer. Ezra had stopped struggling and now looked as if the slightest breeze would topple him over.

"I thought you were dead." He smiled tentatively at his own confusion. "I was so sure."

"Ezra, son. I need to get you into bed. You're sick son. We let me do that?"

"I saw you die," he replied simply. Vin and Chris both cursed softly. "I don't understand."

"I'll explain it all to you later. Right now, you need to rest. You were hurt Ezra. Do you remember?"

Ezra shook his head. "No. No. You were sick, not me. You were sick daddy." Ezra's voice was getting weaker and held the plaintiff sound of a tired child.

"Ezra, son. You're confused. You're hurt and you're bleeding."

"No!" Ezra shrieked. "Not bleeding please. Please daddy. No." He tried to run away again, collapsing to the floor. "Please don't do that. Please don't let him kill me too!" Ezra looked up with tears streaming as his eyes rolled back and he passed out in Josiah's arms.

"Damn Chris, he's burning up. Hot as hellfire."

"What the hell was all that?" Buck demanded.

Chris shook his head. "No idea. We gotta get Nathan here."

"He's out at the Baker farm. JD's already gone for him. Imagine they'll be back as soon as they can, but that's still going to be about an hour." Buck was now beside Josiah helping him lift Ezra. Vin was already on his way up the stairs to open Ezra's room.

A moment later they were settling him on the bed. Josiah held him while the others tried to undress him with as little jostling as possible. The moment the jacket was off the problem was evident.

"Shit. What a mess." Chris cringed at what he was seeing. Ezra's shirtsleeve was red with blood and yellow with pus. As they made a move to remove it, Ezra opened his eyes once again.

"Take it easy Ezra." Chris took another step closer. "Gonna get you settled into bed. I just have to cut this shirt away from you." He got no further in his explanation before Ezra once again bucked and pulled, trying to get away. Josiah tightened his grip and spoke soothingly.

"Just stay still Ezra. Stay still. Nobody's going to hurt you."

Ezra couldn't take his eyes off the small knife in Chris's hand. "Please don't. Please don't cut me. Please." Ezra's voice was weakening again, but the terror on his face was growing.

"Alright son. I promise. We won't, we won't touch you. See, Chris is putting the knife away. Just calm down Ezra. Calm down son."

"Daddy? Don't leave me daddy." Ezra sobbed softly as he once again passed out.

"Get the shirt off him while he still out Chris. He gets upset like that again, I don't know what could happen." Josiah shifted Ezra's slightly onto his side, allowing the others to finish getting him settled for bed. Buck rushed downstairs, in search of clean cloths and cool water. Vin and Chris stepped back, leaving Ezra in the relative peace and quiet of Josiah's comfort. They spoke softly, so as not to wake him.

"I take it you have no idea what that was about?"

"I'm every bit as confused as you are Vin. I had the idea he'd never known his father. Clearly that was wrong."

"He really say he watched him die?"

"Yeah, he did. And from the way he was talking, he couldn't have been more than a kid at the time."

"Damn. Sounds like all this, with the fever, brought it all back to him. Wish we knew how to help them."

"Be here. That's about all we can do."

7-7-7-7-7-7-7

Nathan stopped short as he entered the room. Had it not been so serious, the sight in front of him would've been more than amusing. Ezra lay curled on his side, nestled into Josiah's arms. The big man was trying to keep him calm, stroking his hair and mumbling quietly to him. Chris, Buck and Vin paced off to the side, looking for all the world like nervous parents.

But there was nothing amusing about the look of Ezra's arm. It was swollen, discoloured and continued to seep fluids. Nathan hoped things hadn't progressed too far. Nodding only briefly to the others, he hurried to Ezra's side.

"Hey there Ezra. You sure know no ways to get yourself into trouble. I'm just gonna take a look at your arm."

Ezra immediately began to struggle again, but Josiah held tight. "Don't worry son. I'm not going to let him hurt you. I'm not going to let them cut you." He looked Nathan squarely in the eye. "You don't go anywhere near him with a knife. I promised him."

Nathan had no idea what was going on, but nodded his agreement. He hoped to be able to keep that promise, but if the arm was as infected as he thought it was, there might be no choice in the matter.

Ezra hesitantly put his arm out, allowing Nathan to gently take hold. Ezra flinched, but said nothing. Nathan smiled slightly when Ezra reacted to a light tickling of his hand. "That's good. You still got feeling in your hand." He turned to Vin. "Need you to go over to my clinic. There's a bag on the shelf with three 'x's on it. Fetch that for me please. And some clean water."

"We had Inez boil some for us. It's been cooling for a while now. I'll ask her to bring it up on my way out." Vin left.

"Ezra," Nathan spoke softly. "Going to wrap your arm up." Ezra flinched again. "Don't worry Ezra. Not gonna cut anything. I plan to put some herbs and lotion on it. Gonna make you feel better. I promise."

Ezra said nothing for a moment, then cautiously looked up towards Josiah. "You promise too daddy?"

"Of course son." Ezra nodded quietly, before closing his eyes.

Nathan didn't move, stunned by Ezra's response. It was only when Vin returned to the room, supplies in hand, that he moved. Inez was a few steps behind and within moments Nathan had prepared the poultice. He explained what he was doing to Ezra, although he had doubts the gambler heard any of it. There was silence while he worked, and when finished he nodded to the others indicating a need to speak outside.

"I'll stay here with him." Josiah hadn't really needed to say that.

The moment the door closed, Nathan began peppering the others with questions. Chris held up his hand to stop the onslaught. "We don't know anything more than you do Nathan. Clearly the fever has brought on some bad memories."

"But daddy? I was sure Ezra told us his father was dead."

"He is." Vin kept his voice low, fearing that Ezra might pick up the conversation. "Josiah called him son a couple of times, and Ezra got real confused. Said Josiah couldn't be his daddy, as he'd watched his daddy die."

"Damn. Well, fever would account for some of it. Any idea why he was so afraid I was going to cut them?"

"Not really, but I get the feeling it had something to do with how is father died. When he's feeling stronger, maybe we can get a few answers."

"Wouldn't count on it Chris." Buck spoke for the first time since they gotten Ezra settled. "If he hasn't wanted to share this before, is not likely to now."

"Either way, it's going to be a while." Nathan turned back to the room. I'm betting he's been asleep for at least the next 24 hours, may be more. I'll stick close by to change the dressings. One of you is going to have to come by in a while to talk Josiah into getting some rest. From the look on his face, he's not planning on going anywhere."

"Doubt that any of us will be able to talk him away. Maybe once Ezra's fever has broken."

Nathan re-entered the room as the others headed downstairs. Josiah looked up at him. "Don't even suggest it. I'm not going anywhere."

"Didn't expect you to. But when he's starting to feel better, you've got to get some rest. He's gonna feel bad enough about how this all played out. He wakes up and sees you holding him like this, remembering how he reacted, he'll be damned upset. He doesn't need that added stress."

Josiah sat unmoving for a moment. "Fine. When I'm sure he doesn't need me here, I'll move away. Till then, not budging."

He smiled as he nodded. "Fine. Just don't complain to me when your back is sore tomorrow."

"I will pray for the Lord's healing hand on that, as well as Ezra's arm."

7-7-7-7-7-7-7

It was almost three full days before Ezra again walked down the stairs, and into the saloon. Nathan had been right. The fever had broken fairly quickly thanks to the poultices. Ezra drifted in and out for the first 24 hours, but when he did fully wake up, he was alone in his bed. Nathan sat dozing in a chair in the corner.

"Mr. Jackson?"

"Yeah Ez, it's me. You just take it easy, you gonna be fine."

"My recollection is hazy, but I have the distinct impression I made life quite difficult for you."

"Well that's nothing new." Nathan said with a smile, hoping to put the man at ease. It didn't exactly work.

"No, I suppose that is true. I am not exactly the ideal patient. I fear I may have said things, or done things, that do not accurately reflect my feelings or opinions."

"Don't worry about it Ezra. People say a lot of things when they're sick. I don't take them personally."

"That just makes me all the more concerned as to exactly what I did say. Please be assured Mr. Jackson, my dislike and distrust of doctors has nothing to do with you. In any way."

"Ezra, I've met a lot of men, with a lot of prejudices over the years. I can't comment on what you might have said or done in the past. But I know the man you are now. You didn't say anything to make me change that opinion."

"I can say without a note of falsehood, or a moment's hesitation, that I trust you with my life."

"You didn't need to say that Ezra, but I appreciate it."

Nathan had fought off the curiosity to ask Ezra more details on what caused his dislike of doctors, aware this was neither the time nor the circumstance for such inquiry. It worried him more that he was unable to convince Ezra to allow visitors.

"Ezra, you got nothing to be ashamed of."

"I thank you for the falsehood Mr. Jackson. And even if it were true, I have no doubt our colleagues are anxious for an explanation that I am less than eager to provide. Although my memory is hazy, I have no doubt I shared far more than I had ever intended."

"Sounds like it's a story that needs to be shared Ezra. You gotta stop bottling everything up inside."

"Alas Mr. Jackson, sharing is not a talent I can lay claim to."

"I always found you to be a pretty good storyteller Ezra."

"Stories, yes, Mr. Jackson. The truth is an entirely different matter." Ezra said nothing else to him for the remainder of the day.

As much as he would have liked to do so, Ezra knew it was impossible to stay in his room for the rest of his life. So, with reluctance, he found himself heading down those stairs on the third day. He had assured Nathan he would be down to eat a meal at lunch. As he expected, the result was a full table waiting for him. They were all smiling, and all had the same anxious look that reflected the way he himself was feeling.

He noted his usual chair in the corner had been left vacant for him. He was relieved to see Josiah did not have the seat next to his.

"Surely at least some of you gentlemen must have something more worthwhile to be devoting your time to today. I find it difficult to accept that Mr. Larrabee has not assigned at least one of you patrol duty."

"Don't worry about it Ezra. We're keeping an eye on the town. We all just needed to see for ourselves that you were up and about."

"I assure you Mr. Larrabee, Mr. Jackson has not exaggerated my recovery. And in anticipation of your questions, yes, I am feeling much better. My arm is still sore, but I have been assured it will heal fully with time. And in further anticipation of your comments, I wish to extend my apologies for misrepresenting the situation. I can assure you, I had no expectation of the problems that arose. Sadly, by the time the difficulties had manifested themselves, I was in no position to act accordingly."

Buck leaned back in his seat as he smiled at Ezra. "We know you didn't mean no harm Ezra. But you sure as hell scared us."

"Why didn't you let on you were hurt?" JD couldn't understand why such a simple situation had gotten so out of hand.

"As I have tried to reassure Mr. Jackson, my reluctance in seeking medical assistance was in no way intended as a reflection of my opinion of his skills. I have no doubt he has kept not just myself but all of us alive far more often than not."

"Told you not to worry about that Ezra. I know you didn't mean nothing."

"So, what is it Ezra? What have you got against doctors?" Chris asked softly. There was no point in avoiding the subject, and the sooner it was addressed, the sooner they could move past this. He hoped.

"In principle, nothing. I have the utmost of respect for the learned men of medicine who properly care for the sick, wounded, and dying." Ezra was staring down at the table, not making eye contact with any of the others.

"But I'm guessing you've encountered a few weren't quite so 'learned'?" Vin prodded.

"Let it suffice to say that not all of those who practice medicine have the same compassion, dedication, and skill set as we were fortunate enough to find in Mr. Jackson."

Josiah leaned forward slowly, resting his arms on the table. "You don't have to talk about this if you don't want to Ezra. But I'm guessing maybe you should. From what you said, from what we can figure out, it's clear something bad happened. One of the so-called doctors killed your daddy, didn't he?"

Ezra went perfectly still. He knew he had let too much information out to the others while he had been feverish and out of control. If the injury had been anything else, anything other than that long open gash on his arm. Even as he thought it now, he could feel the beginnings of panic growing within him. Nathan saw it too, and quickly poured a glass of water for him. He had no doubt Ezra would've preferred something stronger, but was in no shape to handle that yet.

Ezra said nothing, but gulped down half the glass quickly, sipping slowly at the remainder. The others sat quietly, waiting for him to collect himself. After several moments he spoke so softly he could barely be heard. "Yes."

"I'm so sorry Ezra." Nathan shook his head slowly. "I wish I could say something like that surprised me, but sadly I've seen a few doctors who don't deserve to have the title."

Ezra finished off the glass of water. "The man was a charlatan. I do not know if he even was a doctor, or just lay claim to the title. Either way, I have no doubt he left a trail of devastation in his wake." He raised his head and hazarded a glance at Josiah. "I believe you would have enjoyed meeting my father. I have no doubt the two of you would've had fascinating discussions."

"Man of God?"

"Hardly. But a man of philosophy, of great intellectual curiosity. A gentleman. And a gentle man." He smiled wistfully. "I do believe he is the only man my mother ever had genuine feelings for. And I know he loved her with all his heart. Unfortunately, for mother, that was not enough."

"Sometimes wondered just what kind of man might've inspired Maude Standish to take a husband." Vin grinned as he made the statement.

"Surprisingly, not a man of wealth or power. He was a bookkeeper. He worked at a bank in Atlanta. Quite respected in the company, but an employee nevertheless. Mother met him when she went into finalize financial arrangements on some scam or another. She never did share all of the details. And I think father tried to shelter me to a degree from just what she was really all about. A futile effort."

"Forgive me Ezra," Buck interjected, "but I have trouble seeing Maude show an interest in a bookkeeper."

"Under most circumstances, you would be correct Mr. Wilmington. But, to hear him tell the tale, he was instantly infatuated. Mother does so like it when that happens." Ezra smiled. "And it happens far more often than it should." He sat quietly for a moment, lost in the memories of the anecdotes he had been told as a child. The others left him to his recollections, allowing him time to come to grips with the rest of the story.

When Ezra began to speak again, it was almost as if he was unaware the others were listening. "Mother did eventually fall prey to his charms. I never did find out if my existence was part of the motivation for their wedding, as it is something a son simply does not discuss with his mother. But in my heart, I have little doubt that is why she married him. Not surprisingly, the marriage did not last long. Mother could no more settle down than she could fly. And father had no ability to take on the life that mother craved. He was, to use a dreadful cliché, as honest as the day is long. The combination was doomed from the beginning. I don't think I had reached my first birthday before mother and I had moved on to new territory."

"Kinda surprised she took you with her." Buck said without thinking. Vin kicked him under the table. Ezra merely grinned at the interplay.

"Do not be so quick to judge gentleman. Mother had a myriad of scams she could run involving an infant in arms. I was an invaluable prop." He said it with no sadness in his voice, but his eyes reflected a different story. Chris fought the urge to growl. "It wasn't until I was about five years old and that we made our way back to Atlanta. Mother was seriously hard up for cash at that point, having encountered a serious run of misfortune. The first thing she did on arriving was to track down father's whereabouts. He was still with the bank, and was now chief bookkeeper. I recall the first time I laid eyes on him. I had no idea who he was, but instantly felt a connection. It was one of the few times in my life I can remember being unconditionally welcomed." Ezra took a long slow sip from the fresh glass of water. It wasn't merely a stalling technique, as his mouth had gone dry and his hands trembled slightly as the nature of the remainder of the story threatened to overtake him.

"Ezra, you don't need to tell us all this right now. Been through enough in the last few days." Chris didn't like watching anyone have to relive what was clearly a bad memory.

"I thank you, Mr. Larrabee, but perhaps it is in fact time I share the story. Clearly the memory is more haunting than I realized.

After another sip, he continued. "It didn't take mother long to make it clear her desire was that I remain in Atlanta, while she set out on the road again. I have no doubt father would have preferred to settle into a happy family home, but seemed more than willing to settle for having his son by his side." Ezra smiled at the memory. "It was an unusual experience for me as well. It was a little more than two years that I stayed with him. I had no idea people remained in one place for that long. I had no idea people remained in one place."

"Sounds like you had some pretty good times with your dad."

"Yes Mr. Dunn. There are indeed some fond memories." Ezra's smile faded. "Unfortunately, it was yet another demonstration to me of how unfair life could be."

"Your dad got sick?" Vin asked quietly.

"Yes. Quite suddenly. To this day I do not know the exact nature of the illness. I remember he weakened quickly. It seems to me it was a matter of days, although that may be a child's memory being distorted. I do recall the manager at the bank sent him home. A few days later, when he was still unable to return to work, a doctor arrived. He told my father the bank manager had sent him. I remember being puzzled by that. I'd seen a different doctor at the bank, once when I was visiting my father and the manager was ill. This doctor, the one that was sent for my father, looked quite different; not as well dressed, and something about him frightened me."

"You saying they deliberately sent someone unqualified?" Chris questioned.

"I believe they did not feel it was necessary to spend top dollar for a lowly employee. And the bookkeeper, regardless of his ability or status, was still just an employee."

"Well that ain't right." JD complained.

"No Mr. Dunn, it isn't. But it is the way of the world. This so-called doctor spent only a few moments examining my father. He settled quickly on a cure." Ezra stopped speaking, his mouth dry once again. He fidgeted with his hands, uncomfortable with the attention that was being given to him at this time. Buck reached over to the table next to theirs and grabbed a deck of cards from the centre. He passed them to Ezra, who immediately began shuffling and manipulating the deck. The distraction seemed to settle his nerves to a degree.

"Before that time, I had never heard of the practice of bleeding a man. Of course, I was not yet eight years old, so there were a great many things I had never heard of. He did not have me leave the room. I sat quietly in the corner watching." Ezra's breaths were becoming shallower, and Nathan watched closely for fear of a relapse. He wasn't entirely sure Ezra was strong enough for this, but knew if he stopped the story now, Ezra would likely never speak of it again. And there was no doubt that he needed to speak about this. Nathan shifted slightly, inching his chair closer to Ezra in case he was needed.

"I do not know if any of you have ever seen the procedure done. I'm sure Mr. Jackson is fully aware of it, serving in his capacity as stretcher bearer during the war. Undoubtedly it is not new to the rest of you either." JD was about to correct him on that, when a shake of the head from Buck stopped him from speaking. Ezra continued, unaware of the byplay. "It is a harsh process. I have no doubt, in the skilled hands of a proper physician, it would be less graphic. Less traumatic. One would hope, considerably less painful. I can still hear my father scream."

"He didn't give him something first?" Nathan had to ask.

"No." Ezra answered after a moment. "He merely pulled out scalpel and sliced." The men all flinched at the image, unable to hide their reaction and anger. "I tried to run over to him, but he ordered me to stay back. I could not take my eyes off the blood. It wouldn't stop. The doctor wrapped to the arm, loosely applied what I now know believe was intended to be a tourniquet, and left."

"He what?"

"He left Mr. Tanner. He did return a few moments later, loosened the tourniquet, and sat down again. The wound kept bleeding. It had been bleeding all along. By that point, I had moved to sit beside my father. I held onto his other hand as if my very life depended on it. I think I somehow believed his did. He was in so much pain. I felt his grip weaken and then his hand fell open. He didn't answer me when I called him." Ezra's voice could barely be heard at this point

"Dear God. Ezra I'm so sorry." Chris's voice was rough with grief. "Nobody should have to see that, least of all a seven-year-old boy."

Ezra was once again staring down at the table. He knew if he made eye contact he would lose what little control he had left. "I am not certain precisely what steps were taken, what process was done, but a few weeks later mother returned. Father had been buried in a pauper's cemetery, with his meagre savings insufficient to provide more than a very modest grave marker. The bank manager arranged for me to be placed in an orphanage until mother's arrival. We left Atlanta soon after that. It was years until I returned."

No one spoke. No one really knew what to say. For several minutes all that could be heard was uncomfortable shuffling of chairs and the sounds of empty beer glasses hitting the table. Josiah finally broke the silence. "I owe you an apology Ezra."

Ezra looked up in disbelief. "Whatever for Mr. Sanchez?"

"I presumed far more than I had the right to. I think you know I never meant any harm in calling you son, but I had no idea how painful that might have been for you. Never dawned on me I might be stirring up memories every time I did it."

"If that is your concern, I feel it is I who should be apologizing to you. You are correct, I knew no harm was ever intended. And it was not so much the memories that disturbed me, as the potential." He looked around at the confused faces, uncertain even he would be able to put into words what he was thinking. Vin saved him the trouble.

"You didn't want to get that close to anyone again, did you Ezra? Thought of losing someone you cared about that much just ripped you up, didn't it?" Ezra gave a barely perceptible nod of his head. "See the problem with that Ezra, is if you don't let in the chance for hurt, you don't let in the chance for happiness."

"Never knew you could be so philosophical Vin." Buck teased, hoping to lift the mood.

"Oh, I have depths to my character you could not begin to imagine." Vin winked back.

Ezra would not allow himself to be distracted from Josiah's earlier comment. "I believe Mr. Tanner may be speaking the truth. Not about the depths of his character, although I believe that to be a true statement as well. I have spent my life avoiding relationships. Avoiding attachment. Commitment."

"You miss an awful lot that way Ezra." Chris observed.

"Yes. One would miss pain, loneliness, the agony of loss. Surely you cannot disagree with that Mr. Larrabee?"

"Afraid I do Ezra. Yes, I've had my share of pain. But I kissed my wife on our wedding day. I held my newborn son in my arms. Lots of good memories mixed in with all the bad. One helps to get through the other."

"I am afraid I would have to take your word for that."

"No Ezra you don't. You got friends. You got family."

"Mother?" Ezra's voice had a hint of skepticism to it.

"Well, her too. I was thinking more about us." JD stated. "My mother taught me that friends are the family you get to pick."

Ezra smiled. "A fascinating concept. Your mother clearly was a very intelligent woman." He paused for a moment, then looked up at Josiah again. "I believe," he hesitated briefly, "I choose to believe my father would have approved of you calling me son. In fact, I think he would be quite pleased by the sentiment." He added quietly, "I know I am."


End file.
